


To the Bone

by stranger12



Series: Three Six Six Project - The Leftovers and So On [4]
Category: Hostel (Movies)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, F/M, Implied/Referenced Torture, Violent Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2019-03-16 15:32:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13639107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stranger12/pseuds/stranger12
Summary: [Sequel to 2016 July 11th It is Futile & September 14th With a Broken Bottle in Hand] It was a chilly day





	To the Bone

She was outside his door. Every day, every morning, he could almost feel her, standing there, waiting, thinking, considering leaving him in – she hadn’t so far, but he hadn’t had much reason to hope for the best, not since he realized screaming for his life would take him nowhere, because he had been thrust into a world where people didn’t care for one another, where a smile meant a trap, where a stranger was his doom, where life was worth as much as one might like to shell out for.

He knew how much she had paid for him, and some nights, when he stared into the darkness, he wondered how much he had been worth the first time, when he had been a fresh faced kid, and not someone who had managed to outsmart the assholes who captured him, even if for a brief, exhilarating brief moment in time.

“Hi” – she had opened the door. Her smile was a lie, just like- Except it wasn’t a bad lie, she just didn’t know how to deal with him.

For whatever reason, she had bought him, and she had gotten away with not killing him, even if he had had to stain his hands with more blood. It felt so good, to save himself, to breathe in someone’s pain, and the guilt that he felt was so fleeting in the face of the truth of his existence, that he barely even had the time to acknowledge it.

“I made pancakes today” – she continued, hand twitching on the handle.

Would today be the day she closed it in his face and left it locked up? He had been expecting it since the day they came back, since the night she locked him in, and he wondered how long he would be able to survive in the large, expensive-looking room. Maybe this was what she wanted – a slow, cruel death, something she wouldn’t be able to get in a filthy warehouse. Cleaning up after him, after he died, wouldn’t be that difficult for someone so fucking rich.

He nodded and walked over to her. She didn’t flinch anymore when he got close, however the wariness in her eyes was always there.

Pity, a girl like her? The guy he used to be would’ve been all over that.

Indeed she had made pancakes, a little flat in taste, though he couldn’t blame her – hardly anything tasted good now. But she tried, she sat across from him and sometimes made small talk, sometimes she just let the silence fall around them, with only the television to fill the air, and he listened to the news, tried to make sense of how the world had moved on without him in it.

“Do you- Do you want to go out today?”

Ever since they went out shopping (how odd it had been, meeting her father, who appeared as innocent as fresh snow, letting her buy him clothes that didn’t burn his skin like the Elite’s clothes did, watching the locks of hair fall to the ground as he started to feel a little more like himself, whatever that meant), she started asking him every single day if he wanted to leave the apartment.

And every time, he nodded. She hadn’t denied him. Yet.

Most days, they went to the park nearby. He had never been to New York, but it was nice enough, the little he’d seen of it. She would sit with him, saying little or nothing, and they simply watched the carefree children, the busy joggers, the vendors. Their life surely wasn’t as easy as it seems, he could remember even he had had troubles before, but he doubted any of them had gone through the same thing he had. He was only still standing because he had killed his way into freedom, or something close to it, with a slip of a girl as his keeper.

The day was a little chilly, but he hadn’t brought a jacket. It had been cold, the day they met, and the days leading up to it. He had been in Chicago, he later found out, looking out the window in the car that drove them to the airport, and a small, quiet little voice whispered in his ear that his uncle lived in Chicago, maybe he could jump off the car, maybe he could make it, maybe-

Maybe he would get his whole family killed for being a fucking moron, and that was the end of that.

He felt the slight cold and let it wash over him. It wasn’t that bad, and even if it was, the thought of complaining over such a little thing had been beaten out of him. Before, he had been a reluctant student, every lesson taking its time entering his brain, whatever it was, but after, he learned with every punch, every slash, and every drop of blood he shed. He could handle the cold, he could handle hunger, and misery, and despair.

Before, he never would have called himself resilient, but he was now. He had to be, to close his eyes and not think of his family, of his girlfriend, of Josh. There was a before, a distant, cold memory of a before, of happy times that he couldn’t quite touch, because they were of a different person, a boy who thought living off of a backpack for a while was a great idea, and not the- The person who ate off the floor, who spat blood into people’s faces, who killed.

They were different people, and he was the latter. He would now always be the latter, for as long as she allowed him. He had no doubts that one day she would tire to being trapped in her own home, always afraid of what he might do to her.

(There was no denying he had thought about doing horrible things to her, things that would turn a normal person’s stomach with little trouble).

She was a fucking asshole, just like all of them. She was a rich little shit who got her kicks out of torturing and killing innocent people – that she had used her money to buy him, and was keeping him, well fed, well dressed, with the only requirement being that he not step out of the apartment without her (and, he supposed, that he not hurt her), was... Odd, to say the least. However she was one of them, no matter how nice her father, no matter how guilty she looked every day when she locked him in.

The rage in his gut was threatening to bubble over, so he shoved it all down. They were outside, if he did anything, if he survived, then she would definitely locked him up and throw the key away without a thought. Maybe she’d call the Elite to drag him to another warehouse – a third time offender? He would fetch a nice price for them.

“Beth?” – some called out, and he froze in place, but ready to strike. She looked startled but put on a smile at the approaching man.

“Sean, hi” – she looked at him quickly before getting up to greet the stranger.

They talked for a while in low tones that he didn’t bother trying to hear. Maybe he was one of them too, maybe they were making jokes about poor little him, two times bought, now her little pet.

“-miss you, why can’t-”

“I’m sorry, Sean, I’m not- I told you, we’re not good together”

“And what, that guy is?” – the man sounded angry. Or was that anger? It was difficult to tell.

“Don’t talk about him like that, he’s my- He’s a friend”

“Right, a friend, I’ve heard that one before”

“It’s the truth, whether you want to believe it or not”

“Whatever, Beth. Have fun” – and then she groaned but sat back down.

Was she upset? The man hadn’t hit her, so it couldn’t be that bad. He wondered what she would have done if she had been struck – she couldn’t be as sweet as she looked sometimes, she had to have a violent streak. As for him, would he have sat there, watching the carnage? The man had been bigger than her, his fist large enough to do some damage.

But then she might die, and he would be free. Maybe he would have the time to disappear into the crowds, to become another face, another nobody. Maybe... Maybe...

“I’m sorry about him” – she said quietly – “He’s- He’s a jackass”

He remained silent, pushing the daydreams of dashing into freedom to the back of his mind.

“He’s just upset I dumped him”

Again he said nothing. Why was she telling him about some guy she fucked? He didn’t care.

“His- His grandfather was Elite” – she whispered, glancing around, as if afraid.

That gave him pause.

“He saw my- My tattoo one day and said his grandfather used to have one just like it, so, you know” – she snorted – “They’re everywhere”

‘They’, she said. ‘They’, that didn’t include her.

‘They’.

The anger almost burst out of him but he didn’t let it show.

“I never asked” – her voice was so soft, it made something in him stir. He could almost remember women talking to him in that tone, before – “Were you in Slovakia too? When they...”

Again with ‘they’. And just the mention of that place made him want to scream, to become the animal he had been sometimes, and to rip her throat open, just to see the surprise in her eyes before he-

“I was there” – he nearly didn’t hear her say it – “I was with my friends” – she smiled briefly – “It was supposed to be fun, you know. Just... We were supposed to relax and enjoy ourselves”

What?

“I don’t even know what happened to- To Lorna” – she looked down and her entire body shook – “And all I know is that Whitney died. He killed her. That motherfucker killed her”

He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t think, he could only stare at her back.

“I killed him, you know. I- I cut off his dick and fed it to the dogs, and told them to leave him alone. I hope he suffered”

She had killed-

She wasn’t one of ‘them’.

She was one of ‘him’.

She was him.

“I never really appreciated all this money my mom left me, you know, but I finally found something I really wanted to buy”

What. What did she buy?

And the answer was like a punch to the gut.

She bought herself.

She had bought herself.

“I’m sorry” – she looked at him, her eyes reddened and wet – “I never asked if you- If you wanted this, and now we can’t even- We’re stuck” – she gave a nervous laugh – “I doubt there’s anywhere we can go now, where they can’t find us”

He was stuck with her, and she was stuck with him.

She was him, he was her.

“I’m so sorry, I’m sorry” – she put her hands on her face and started crying.

Once, he thought he could recall, he didn’t like people crying near him. He didn’t like crying any less, however he couldn’t move to- Help her, comfort her.

“If you hadn’t bought me” – he started slowly, and her head snapped up at him, as if in shock – “I would be dead”

And he would be. He would’ve tried his hardest to take some of them with him, but he would be dead, no doubt about that. No one else would have taken him in like she had.

She took several deep breaths, wiped her face as best as she could, and sat back up.

It was a chilly day, and he shivered as a particularly strong gust hit him.

**Author's Note:**

> To the lovely Ranni, who agrees with me that this fandom needs more entries ;)


End file.
